


Care and Comfort

by MusicalLuna



Series: Feathers [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pre-Relationship, This could very easily be queerplatonic, Touch-Starved, Touching, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Tony offers to preen Steve's wings.It's been a long time since anyone did something so intimate for Steve.





	Care and Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> i was extra inspired by the wingfic prompt

Steve aches after the battle.

He—and his wings—took a hell of a beating. He hasn’t seen them, but he’s sure they’re a mess—bloody, with feathers sticking out at all angles, some missing in places. It’s going to take him hours to get them back in order.

He misses Peggy and Bucky more than ever at times like this. It’s been too long since he had a helping hand, and it never quite feels as effective when he’s doing it on his own. These months with the Avengers have been good, he feels more whole, more human than he had when he’d first come out of the ice, but he hasn’t been able to reach that far. He aches for that intimacy.

But there’s nothing he can do about it, so. Time to get to work.

He winces as he unfastens the buckles on the suit. It takes the pressure off, but that means he can feel all the aches and pains flaring up, turning throbbing and hot.

Steve lets out a measured breath between pursed lips and eases the jacket free, letting it slide to the floor. He’s gingerly prodding at his shoulders, testing for tender spots, when someone knocks at the door.

“Ah, yeah,” he calls distractedly. “Come in.”

It’s Tony who pushes inside. He’s in fresh clothes—sweats and a tank—and his hair is wet from a shower. The suit has done it’s job and he’s unscathed. Steve’s eyes compulsively go over Tony's shoulders, the absence of his wings always conspicuous.

Guiltily, he looks away.

“Hey,” Tony says, a little breathless. “Jesus, you’re a mess. Do you—do you need a hand?”

Steve blinks, feels his heart beat a little harder. “Sorry?”

Tony looks at him sidelong, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Help. Did you want some help. With—” He gestures at Steve’s wings and then says, “Or whatever.”

Steve swallows thickly, his imagination producing a flash of what it might feel like to have Tony’s callused fingers working his feathers. His throat dries.

Tony gives him a look, wide, brown eyes softening. “C'mon, Steve,” he says gently. “You know I’ve got your back. Let me do this for you.”

Steve’s heart races. After a long moment he nods and says, voice a little rough, “I’d appreciate that.”

Tony moves without hesitation once he’s been given the green light. He pats Steve’s shoulder as he moves around, sharp eyes assessing Steve’s injuries. His undivided attention makes Steve’s skin tingle.

“Uniform’s still in tact, that’s good. Shame I can’t come up with anything flexible enough to protect your wings. They look rough. You really got put through the wringer today.”

“It was no walk in the park,” Steve agrees and Tony flashes him a quicksilver smile.

When he’s finished his inspection, Tony helps him get out of his undershirt so he’s bare from the waist up, goosebumps pebbling his skin.

“Okay,” he says finally. “I’m going to touch them now.”

Steve nods and braces himself for the touch, but it’s still a shock to feel hands other than his own on his wings. Ten months it’s been. He gasps, a shudder rippling through him.

“Shh, shh,” Tony murmurs, voice low. “I’m going to get everything back in place, then we’ll clean you up and patch things.”

Steve can’t speak, too overwhelmed by how goddamn good it feels, so he just nods.

It must be because of how long it’s been since the last time someone preened with him, but every sensation feels heightened, chills going all the way down the length of his spine at every tiny gesture. Tony’s fingers are deft and gentle, removing broken and bent feathers so skillfully Steve’s hardly aware of them slipping free.

“You okay?” Tony asks when he’s finished the straightening, his hand coming to rest lightly on Steve’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Steve rasps. “I'm—great, actually.”

Tony laughs quietly. “We’ll see if you still feel that way when I start cleaning.”

He gets a washcloth and a bowl of warm water and starts at the tip of one wing, running the cloth over each feather, front and back. At first, it feels incredible. Then Tony gets to one of the places where he’d sustained an injury—that’s less pleasant. He smears ointment over the places where Steve’s been bleeding, keeps at it, methodically cleaning every inch of Steve’s wings and before long nearly an hour’s gone by.

Steve is listing where he sits, unable to fight the post-battle exhaustion in his newly-relaxed state. He feels tingly and sensitive all over, in a good way. It’s a floaty sensation he’s holding onto with all his might.

“How’re you doing?” Tony asks, sliding the washrag into the now-cloudy water. “Better?”

“Fantastic,” Steve mumbles. “Thank you, Tony. Nobody's—”

Tony sighs and Steve thinks he must imagine it, but it feels like he presses a kiss to Steve’s shoulder. “Nobody’s helped you preen since you woke up, have they?”

“Wasn’t anybody I could trust,” Steve says. “Then I didn’t want to presume, so…”

“You’re an idiot,” Tony tells him, but he sounds fond. “You can come to me for preening any time, Steve. Seriously. That goes double after a battle, all right?”

Steve nods, ducks his head. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t even go there,” Tony says and squeezes the back of Steve’s neck warmly. “Uh. I don’t want to push my luck, but do you want me to oil them, too?”

That's—god, that’s intimate, but who the hell can he trust if not Tony? “Yes. Please, if you—”

Tony squeezes again and it’s oddly reassuring. “Okay, here goes.”

Steve shivers when he feels Tony’s fingers brush the gland at the base of his spine. When they’re coated in oil, he starts smoothing it over Steve’s feathers, just as careful as he was when he was cleaning them.  Steve’s not sure his wings have ever been this well-cared for.

He ends up drifting, the world shrinking down to just the sensation of Tony’s fingers over his feathers and it’s pure bliss.

“Cap, you still with me?” Tony asks eventually. It sounds like he’s far off, even though he’s right behind Steve.

“Mhm, still…”

Tony huffs a soft laugh. “Okay, I think you’ve got a literal contact high. We’ll talk when you wake up.”

“Sleep,” Steve groans, wanting.

Tony tips him over into the cool, welcoming sheets, and it’s no time at all before Steve drifts off.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Full (Care and Comfort Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705452) by [Withstarryeyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes)




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